I Need To Hear That You'll Die For Me
by TwilightVampire92
Summary: He didn’t know how much longer they could keep this up. The running, the fighting, losing the few people in this world that they loved that meant anything to them in the first place. He was tailspinning. 5x10 spoilers. WINCEST


Spoilers up to and including 5x10 (Abandon All Hope)

**Wincest. **Don't like, don't read :] Written for the Help_Haiti community on livejournal.

* * *

It had been 17 hours since it happened.

It had been 15 hours since Dean burned their last memory.

It had been 13 hours since Dean stopped talking to Sam altogether; just packed up their stuff and headed to the car without a word to Bobby.

Sam worried for a moment that Dean would have left without him if he hadn't run out after his brother, shoes in hand and calling out a goodbye to the closest person they had to family. The _only_ person they had that was even close to being called family after...just, _after what happened._

Sam subtly tried to clear his throat of the lump that was beginning to form again as he stared out of the passenger window, blank nothingness flying by as they sped down the deserted road. He figured they were somewhere near Kansas by now the way Dean was pushing the car's limits, eating up the blacktop and the miles blurring into each other.

He hadn't said a word, not one thing, since they left Bobby's place in South Dakota, the closest thing they had to a home save the Impala and random motels across the country.

He hadn't even turned on the radio; just drove in absolute silence, the only sounds around them were the roar of the engine and their breathing.

The silence was surrounding him, suffocating him, just begging for him to get lost in his thoughts _again_.

He tried to fight it, tried counting the mile markers on the side of the road and even counting sheep to try and fall asleep, but it was no use.

He succumbed to his thoughts and let himself drown in them.

It was supposed to be a surefire plan. A way for them to win, a way for them to _save the world_.

But they fucked up, miscalculated and forgot the most important part in all this.

He wasn't a demon, he was a goddamned angel. All the power and divinity and twice the ego to boot.

And it cost them their friends.

It cost them their _family_.

He didn't know how much longer they could keep this up, how much longer _he_ could keep this up. The running, the fighting, losing the few people in this world that they loved that meant _anything _to them in the first place.

It would be _so easy_ to just give up and give in, to let them have what they want.

Maybe he should just say ye—

"We'll stay there for the night," Dean said, voice piercing the silence and pulling Sam out of his thoughts quickly, head snapping over to look at his brother as Dean nodded up ahead.

Sam guessed that even subconsciously, Dean knew when his brother needed help, even when it was from himself and his thoughts.

Sam just nodded and sat straighter in his seat as Dean turned into the motel's parking lot and got out to get them a room.

He wondered what Dean would do if he knew just what exactly his brother was thinking just moments ago.

He wondered if Dean ever wondered about the exact same thing. And just like that, he was being sucked back into his thoughts of angels and the world ending.

The sharp slam of the car's trunk behind him snapped him out of it and his eyes traced his brother's figure as it walked over to their room's door, not bothering to look back to see if his baby brother was even following.  
Sam sighed and reached over to open his door, shaking his head slightly to clear it. He had to just _stop_. Dean...Dean needed him right now. Ellen and Jo were as much his family as they were Sam's, maybe even more so.

"Took you long enough," was Dean's way of acknowledging him when he walked into the doorway. Sam ignored him and dropped his duffel on the ground. He pulled out a small canister of salt and drew a heavy line front of their door before throwing it to his brother to salt the one window in the corner—even in their current state of being, salt lines and protection were in the forefront of their minds.

Sam looked around the dingy motel room in silence, taking in the chipped paint and peeling wallpaper, the faded stains on the carpet and heavy bleach smell that failed at completely concealing the moldy wet smell in the room.

Dean dumped his duffel full of weapons on the bed and went to work on them, pulling them apart and inspecting every inch of them. This, Sam knew, was Dean on autopilot. His defense mechanism to cover up everything he was feeling was taking over. Dean didn't cope; he immersed himself in hunting and fighting and lashed out at anyone who came within a 5 foot radius of ticking him off.

In other words, he kept it all to himself, just kept shoving it deeper and deeper until he couldn't anymore. And then he lost it and exploded. And Dean losing it? Wasn't pretty.

And keeping it to himself? Is currently what Dean was doing...which meant that Sam was currently mentally preparing for the blowout.

A sharp intake of breath and the sound of metal clattering against the floor had Sam's head whipping around over to Dean on the bed. He was sucking on the junction of skin between his thumb and forefinger, a small trickle of blood slowly making its way down his palm.

"You okay—"

"I'm fine, Sam." Dean answer was short, clipped, like he had to force the words out. He bent down to grab the fallen knife, placing it on the side of the bed on top of a dirty rag.

"Want me to grab the—"

"Just shut _up_, Sam, God."

"I was just trying to help, Dean..."

"Yeah well, don't. We all know how well things turn out whenever you _try to help_," Dean bit out angrily, shoving the blade back into the weapons bag at his feet.

"Whoa..._what_?" Sam asked as he turned in his seat at the table to fully face his brother, his hands in tight fists at his sides and he mentally forced himself to stay seated, to not charge across the room and throttle his brother.

"Trust me; you never did the world any favors by trying to help."  
And just like that, Sam was seeing red.

"Goddammit Dean, Just _stop_ already!" Sam yelled as he swiped angrily at the duffel bag in front of him, launching it and its contents across the room, clothes spilling out along with stray bullets and a knife holster.

"Stop what exactly, Sam?!" Dean yelled back as he stood up from the bed, anger radiating off of him in waves as he glared at his brother.

"Stop blaming me for every fucking thing that happens!" Sam countered, throwing his arms out and matching Dean's glare with one of his own.

"And who the hell should I blame then Sam, huh?! Enlighten me on who exactly it was that killed Lilith, who freed Lucifer, who brought on the fucking apocalypse and is the reason the world is gonna end!"

Sam stood faster than Dean could register and he got right in his face then, crowding into him and not giving a damn about personal space, "You've got a lot of fucking nerve Dean, you really do. Goddamned hypocrite."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You know _exactly_ what it means." Sam answered, voice lowered down to a growling whisper that would send anyone cowering into a corner.

Anyone other than Dean, who was the one who friggin _taught_ him how to be frightening in the first place.

"I know Dean...I know _you_ broke the first seal."

Anyone that looked at Dean wouldn't have seen any change in his composure.

Anyone other than Sam, who wrote the friggin _book_ on his older brother, his _idol_, and knew every little line, crease, and freckle of Dean's face.

"You don't know anything," Dean grit out from his clenched teeth, still staring him down.

"The hell I don't. I was there, Dean. I heard what Castiel told you, that day you were in the hospital all those months ago..."

"Sam...-" He heard the warning in Dean's voice, the anger that was being held at bay by a thread, but he couldn't stop, he _had_ to get it all out.

"No Dean, just...you've been acting like it's _all_ my fault. Like I single-handedly brought this onto the world, when you're at _just_ as much fault as I am."

Sam didn't notice his brother's fist until it connected with his jaw and sent his head spinning.

His body was shaking with restraint as he forced himself to keep still and not fight back, he didn't _want_ to fight back...not again, not _anymore_.

But dammit, Dean was making it _really_ hard not to.

"C'mon Sam, say it. Fucking blame all of this shit on _me_."

"What? No."

"Do it!"

"I said _no!_" Sam yelled so loud that someone in the next room over banged loudly on the wall, but it didn't really register in Sam's mind; his entire world was pinholed to his brother in front of him and the barely-there air between them.

Dean full-on growled then and pushed Sam roughly away from him, making Sam stumble over his overturned duffel bag, his foot getting caught in the strap, causing him to fall over. He glanced back up at Dean and noticed how his brother's eyes flashed for a moment before going back to cold and angry. That brief flash was all he needed to know that Dean was sorry, that he didn't want this anymore than Sam did.

Sam got up quickly, opting to sit on the bed instead of getting in his brother's face again. He knew he had to diffuse this...but the masochistic part of him wanted to keep picking at it till he got what he wanted.

His dad did always say he was a stubborn bastard.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked quietly as he stared down at the ground. He was met with nothing but silence as an answer.

"Dean...why didn't you tell me," Again, silence.

Sam finally looked up to see Dean staring at him, the anger in his eyes from before was now replaced with something akin to desperation, a silent plea, _don't...please...just let it go._

But he couldn't.

"Dean...what, did you think I wouldn't understand? Did you think I'd judge you or something? What Dean, because seriously...—"

"I couldn't, Sammy," it was said so quietly, Sam wasn't sure it was even said at all.

Dean raked a hand over his face and through his hair, making it stand up in disheveled angles.

"Why, Dean...why _couldn't_ you tell me."

Sam watched, saw as his brother's carefully constructed barriers came tumbling down, leaving him raw, opened.

"It's always been my damn job to keep you safe, Sammy, keep you protected...no matter what, that's _always_ been my job. The one...the _only_ thing I've been good at. Going to Hell...that was for you, and even after all of this bull shit, I don't regret it, at all, because I was just doing my job.

"But when Cas told me I was the one that started it, that it was _me_ that set this whole thing in motion...I couldn't handle it. Because that meant it was _I_ was the reason Lucifer could get free. I'm the reason Lucifer could get you. I fucked up, put _you_ in danger _again_—"

"The whole world is in danger, Dean...not just—"

"I don't give a damn about the world, Sam, okay, I _don't._ I'm willing to let the world burn right now rather than let him get you. He's not going to fucking get you.

I...I—" Sam stood up then, ready to go to his brother's side, but Dean stopped him, squeezing his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I felt like...if you knew...then I really did fail you. Then it was really true that I couldn't keep you safe. I couldn't let that happen, Sammy...because even with everything that was going on, I was still the big brother, ya know? No matter how bad it got, whether it was between us or it was bigger than us, we always had each other to lean on. I thought that if you knew...you'd hate me for it, that you'd finally leave me for good. I couldn't handle that, Sammy...I _can't_ handle that."

The words were jumbling around in Sam's head. He knew he should be glad, grateful even, that Dean had finally come clean...but instead he felt angry, adding onto the confusion and sadness he was already feeling.  
He was tail spinning; his emotions were becoming volatile and he had to breathe before he completely lost it.

A part of him understood why Dean did it, why he needed to feel like Sam still needed him. But another part of him, a bigger part, was just pissed _off_.

How could he practically say he needed Sam to need him when this whole time he was _hurting_ Sam? For months, he kept it to himself and stood by and watched while Sam slowly spiraled into the darkness and self-hate.  
"How could you..."

"Sam—"

"No Dean, just...cut the crap, okay? You were just too much of a coward to own up to your mistakes, too fucking afraid to face the truth that _you_ fucked up. It was easier to just push all the blame on me and why not, I always fuck up, it's expected of me by now." Sam didn't know where it was all coming from, but it was like word vomit. Dean's admission had opened the floodgates to everything Sam had kept locked away since he found out about what happened in Hell. He couldn't take it, he needed to get out.

He barely took three steps towards the door before Dean stopped him, "Don't you do that, don't you fucking walk away Sam!"

His body went rigid, his entire frame tensing and shoulders shaking in ill-concealed shudders that were threatening to wrack his body completely.

"And why not; it's what I'm good at isn't it? Just like dad always said...So why shouldn't I?" Sam faced his brother again, voice bordering on hysterical. "Oh right, you _need_ me. Well guess what Dean, _I_ needed _you_, more than ever, and you just blew me off... just stood and let me think it was all my fault..."

This isn't how he wanted this to go; he just wanted to forgive, forget, and move on and right now, he was torn between throttling his brother and just breaking down where he stood.

He couldn't let either happen.

Dean's eyes were slowly but surely gathering wetness, but he refused to let them fall; instead, he gritted his teeth and kept eye contact with his younger brother.

"I know I fucked up Sam, but you did too...Lucifer, the apocalypse, all of it, it's _both_ of our faults."

"What, you don't think I know that? I've known it for _months_, Dean...I was just waiting for you to see the goddamned light and admit it...figures it takes losing more people we care about and another blow out to get you to tell the truth."

Dean tensed at the mere mention of losing Jo and Ellen. And obviously, Sam noticed, bringing on the next round of the interrogation. Dean could practically hear the announcer calling out the second round of the cage match.

"Why'd you do it, anyways?"

Dean swallowed thickly and cocked an eyebrow; trying to mask everything he was feeling even though he knew _exactly_ what Sam was referring to, "Do what?"

Sam didn't miss a beat, "Kiss Jo."

Dean once again began his pacing and pushed his hand roughly through his hair which was now standing up in complete disarray, "She was dying! What the fuck was I supposed to do Sam, push her away?! It was practically her dying wish..."

"That's not the point!"

"Th-then what is the point?" Dean stumbled over his words and like a kick to the gut; he suddenly knew where this conversation was going and he didn't know if he was ready for that.

Sam closed the small distance between them again, eyes never leaving his brother's. Dean could literally feel the change in the atmosphere around them, _see_ the subtle changes in his brother, "Since we got back together, you've kept me at an arm's length, subtly pushing me away. Yet you keep saying you're trying to keep me close, to get back to what we used to have all those years ago when you got me from school. Things were simple then, easy; just hunt, shoot, kill, dead. No angels, no destiny, and no apocalypse looming over our heads. It was just you...and me."

"Sam..."

"Dean, I...I _want_ to go back to that, I want things to be like they used to be. I want _us_ to be how we used to be."

Dean opened his mouth to answer, but no sound came out. His head was at war with his heart and his vocal cords were obviously stuck in the crossfire.

"Why can't we have that? Don't we _deserve_ some fucking happiness in our lives, Dean?"

Dean opened his mouth again and forced the words out in a strangled whisper, "Sam, I...I want that too, I do, it's just...—"

"Just what, Dean? Not right? Not normal? Not _Legal_? Because trust me, of all things we've seen and done in our lives...this hardly makes the top ten countdown."

"I…Sammy,"

"Dean…just shut up," Sam closed the small gap between them to press his lips to his brother's, silently praying that Dean wouldn't push him away. He needed this, _they_ needed this. But Dean stayed still, lips unmoving under Sam's.

"Dean…_please_," Sam whispered as he broke the kiss —if you could even _call_ it a kiss. More like an awkward press of lips—and leaned his forehead against Dean's, closing his eyes. His emotions were a hurricane inside of him, spinning out of control. Dean was the only thing keeping him grounded in that moment. If Dean let go…Sam didn't even want to think about what could happen.

Dean closed his eyes also, swallowing thickly as the emotions swirled through him. But god, did he want this, he wanted it _back_, wanted back what they used to have together…the only constant in his life…the only _good thing_. It was _right there_, all he had to do was reach and grab and it was his…but he was afraid to.

He loved Sam more than life itself. He would go to Hell again in a heartbeat, let Lucifer destroy the planet without question. Hell, _he_ would bring the entire world to its knees for Sam without even a second thought…but Sam _hurt_ him, and he knew he hurt Sam right back. They were slowly getting back to what they were, sure, but he didn't know if he'd be able to handle it if Sam betrayed him again.

"Dean...tell me I'm wrong here. Tell me that you're not feeling the _exact same thing_. Tell me that you don't want this."

Dean opened his eyes slowly and stared into his brother's, seeing all of his emotions there, bared for the world, bared for _Dean_.

It was rare that they'd be so _open_ with each other. Hell, ever since coming back from the dead, Dean could count on one hand the amount of times they were like _this_ with each other; he'd probably even have fingers left over.

But Sam was open now, all little brother hero worship in his eyes; an 8 year old Sammy pleading with a 12 year old Dean to just _fix it_ and _make it all better._ Just make the pain _go away_.

And just like that, Dean's last defenses cracked and fell away; the big brother in him just could not deny his Sammy _anything_...and frankly, he didn't _want to_.

"Sam…" Dean whispered as he pulled Sam to him, capturing his lips again in a searing kiss, all of his anger, fear, hope and love pouring into the kiss.

Sam gasped against his lips but kissed back just as hard. Dean felt moisture on his cheek and he didn't know if it came from him or his brother, he just gripped Sam's waist harder and pulled him closer; if he could, he'd pull Sam _into_ him, make him safe, make him feel _wanted_.

They both kicked off their shoes clumsily and Sam backed him up slowly towards the bed until the backs of his knees hit the edge, and he fell willingly, knowing Sam was right there with him, and everything Dean was feeling was now centered in on hotwantneed_Sam_, fingers grappling in hair and clothes, twisting and pulling.

Sam broke the kiss, breathing hard, sweat running down his sides, dampening the hair at his temples as he pulled his shirts up and off, haphazardly dropping them on the ground. He reached for the hem of Dean's shirt and looked up, eyes locking. Dean saw the hesitation there, the _fear_.

Dean could still reject him, could still say no, they couldn't have this, and just up and walk away.

But Dean just nodded shakily, blood pumping wildly in his veins and his heart working overtime.

Sam surprised him by suddenly taking his time, kissing every inch of skin as it was slowly revealed. By the time Sam had his jeans unbuckled and on the ground, Dean was panting. Their breaths mingled as Sam brought his face closer to Dean's again, eyes crossing slightly to stay locked, but not daring to look away.

They were saying everything and nothing at the same time; forgiveness, promises and love understood but never spoken aloud.

_I'm sorry. I forgive you. I love you. Me too._

Soon they were both clad in only their boxers and when Sam traced Dean's full, kiss-swollen lips with his fingers, Dean noticed his hand was trembling.

"Sammy...a-are you sure?"

Sam didn't miss a beat, resting his hand on Dean's cheek and nodding, maintaining eye contact. "Yeah. I want this, Dean...I want _you_."

It was like someone hit a switch in Dean. He grabbed Sam's shoulder and flipped them over, grinding his hips down into Sam's, making his baby brother gasp at the sudden intense pressure. He quickly took advantage of it, plunging his tongue into Sam's mouth, exploring and savoring every bit of it. Their tongues clashed for dominance as Dean grinded down again, eliciting a groan from both of them. He pressed down twice more, slotting their hips together perfectly, before pulling away, ignoring Sam's weak protests.

Dean quickly discarded what little clothing remained while Sam groped around in the bedside drawer for the cheap, complimentary lube (It was times like these Sam _really_ liked that Dean chose to stay at skeevy motels that left KY instead of pillow mints). Dean positioned himself back in between his brother's splayed legs and their mouths collided again, all technique and skill thrown out the window and replaced with clashing teeth and bitten lips as they tried to get as close as possible.

Dean felt around blindly until his hand connected with the small bottle and the snick of the cap opening was like a gunshot in the quiet room.

"Dean...wait."

Dean looked down in confusion. _Didn't Sam want to...—_

"I--I want..."

"Sam?"

"Dean...I want you in me." He said quietly, hoping Dean even heard him with how breathless it was.

Dean visibly swallowed as he became impossibly harder and he had to bite the inside of his lip to just _calm down_.

They hadn't _really_ been together in a while. A _long_ while. It had been even longer since they switched positions. And Dean would deny it to his last breath that he _liked_ having Sam in him. He liked giving Sam the control he needed to have and the understanding that Dean _trusted_ him.

But now? Dean knew that Sam needed this. He needed to trust Dean, his _big brother_, he needed to let someone else have control but still know it would all be okay.

"Dean?"

"Yeah, Sammy, yeah. Whatever you want," Dean breathed as he leaned down to kiss him again, taking his time to lick at the corners of Sam's mouth before licking into his mouth and tasting every bit of him while Sam minutely rocked his hips up.

Dean bit and licked his way down Sam, biting softly and then laving at it to wipe away the sting along the way while Sam fisted the bedspread in his hands, biting his lip hard enough to tear the skin. He kissed and licked a trail down Sam's neck and to his chest, tonguing his nipples into hard peaks and trailing his tongue down abs, biting at the dips in the skin and hard muscle. He skimmed his lips softly over Sam's navel and kissed at the junction where coarse hair met soft skin. He could feel Sam's dick under his jaw and his mouth watered in Pavlovian response.

Dean settled down and breathed hotly over his brother, Sam's dick twitching in response, "Dean..._please_." Sam rasped out, breaths coming out in shallow puffs as he swallowed roughly.

Dean took Sam's dick in his hand and licked a strip from root to tip, the taste of Sam exploding in mouth and urging him forward, sucking the head into mouth without preamble.

Sam's hips instantly bucked up and a moan ripped through him, one hand untangling from the sheets to grip at Dean's hair. Dean laid an arm across Sam's hips to keep him from jerking up and sucked Sam down as far as he could go, hollowing out his cheeks and bobbing up and down.

Dean sucked all the way up and tongued at the slit, gathering the precome there before pulling off. Before he could get a deep breath in, Sam was up and pulling him, crashing their lips together. Sam licked into Dean's mouth and licked the taste of himself off of Dean, making Dean moan softly into the kiss. Sam's grip on his shoulder and forearm were tight and Dean knew it would bruise by morning, but he didn't care.

He _wanted_ to be marked by Sam, wanted his brother to mark him and wanted to mark in return.

Dean reached over for the lube but Sam stopped his hand, instead bringing it up and sucking his fingers into his mouth, coating them. Dean's mouth fell open on a silent moan and he could do nothing but _stare_ as his baby brother rolled his tongue over his fingers, biting and sucking the flesh. Sam pulled back with a wet pop and smirked at Dean, eyes blown wide with heat, just a dark ring of green surrounding the pupil.

"Sammy..." Dean breathed out quietly as he leaned down to suck on the side of Sam's neck, distracting him with his tongue as his fingers trailed slowly downward and under, pushing against Sam's hole and past the resistance there. Sam bucked underneath him and whined under Dean as Dean's finger began pumping in and out slowly, his hips rocking against Sam in time with his hand.

He licked a strip against Sam's neck and up his jaw as he added in another finger slowly, kissing away the hiss Sam let out at the slight burn. Dean continued opening him slowly, twisting and scissoring his fingers as his brother fell apart beneath him. Dean got off on it, the power, the ability to make _Sam_, his six-foot-forever, built like a freight train _little_ brother, whine and beg and plead, make him completely powerless.

Dean twisted his fingers and hit the spot inside of Sam that had his baby brother arching off the bed and seeing stars. Dean added in a third finger and continued to rub that spot while simultaneously jacking him off. Sam was writhing beneath him, hair stuck to his forehead and sweat trickling down his temples as he groaned and panted. Dean followed the bead of sweat to Sam's ear and sucked the lobe in his mouth, teasing the skin gently before biting down, just this side of real pain.

"Fuck, Dean..._please_," Sam choked out, words breaking off in a moan as Dean dug his thumb into his slit to catch some of the gathering precome.

"I've got you, little brother," Dean said into his ear before licking the shell and pulled away. Sam groaned at the loss as Dean pulled his fingers out and reached over for the lube and a pillow, fitting it under Sam's hips and placing another pillow under his head.

Dean quickly slicked up his dick and got in position. Sam brought one knee up, foot flat on the bed, and the other was hooked loosely around Dean's hips. Dean looked down to see Sam biting into his lip and his eyes squeezed shut.

"Eyes on me, Sammy," Dean murmured as he rubbed the tip of his dick against Sam's hole, teasing and torturing his little brother.

"_Dean._"

"I want," Dean pushed past the resistance carefully, making Sam gasp out, "Your eyes," He continued to push in slowly, giving Sam time to adjust, "On _me, _" Dean bottomed out and his words cut out on a groan. But _damn_ did he love this, being with his brother, being _in_ his brother.

It was tight, so tight, and so fucking perfect he couldn't think of anything that would ever make him give this up, give _Sam_ up.

Sam's mouth fell open as he sucked in a ragged breath, adjusting to the feel of his brother in him again after so long.

After a few seconds, Sam rocked his hips up and Dean moaned quietly, eyes on his brother as he pulled back just enough before slamming back into him. Sam couldn't wrap his head around how full he felt. The feeling of being absolutely _complete_--as absolutely corny as it sounded—outweighed the burn of just how stretched out he was around his brother. The pain slowly ebbed away and was replaced by how fucking _good_ it felt, impossibly good, too damn perfect for fucking _words_.

They quickly set up a pace and Sam met every one of his thrusts to push Dean in as far as possible. Dean grabbed Sam's leg from his waist and rested it on his shoulder, changing the angle before pushing back in again, making Sam cry out as Dean hit that spot inside of him again and again.

Sam reached down to jack himself off, but Dean slapped his hand away, grabbing it in his own and gripping it on the pillow above Sam's head as both leverage and a warning. Sam moaned out incoherently as the new position made Dean's dick rub against his prostate continuously. He was _so close_, just a few tugs and he'd be done, but Dean had an iron-clad grip on his hand and Sam didn't dare try and use the other.

Sam's eyes followed a bead of sweat that was traveling from Dean's hairline to the corner of his eye before he leaned up to lick it away, kissing his way down Dean's face to his mouth, biting Dean's full bottom lip and distracting him long enough to have him flipped over and on his back, Sam's hand still tight in Dean's grip.  
Now on his lap, Sam reached behind him and grabbed Dean's cock, jerking it slowly a few times, stopping at the head and rubbing at the bundle of nerves there, making Dean moan out loudly.

"Fucking A, Sam..." Dean groaned out, chest heaving as his breaths panted out of him.

"Sucks to be teased, doesn't it."

Dean groaned again as Sam jacked him a few more times before stopping at the root, squeezing gently.  
"Dammit, Sam...if you don't stop it and shove my cock in your ass...right _now_..."

"What're you gonna do, Dean? _Punish me?_"

Dean growled at his brother, but Sam knew that he loved it, loved controlling just as much as being controlled.  
Sam rose up a bit and slowly sunk back down onto Dean, the breath getting punched out of him as Dean's hips snapped up, impaling him. They both groaned at the feel of it. Their joined hands were now above Dean's on the pillow and the other was now resting as leverage on Dean's chest. Sam rose up and then back down, making Dean yell out.

"Fuck! S-Sammy..." Dean let out breathlessly as Sam found his rhythm, riding his brother in earnest. Dean thrust up every time Sam came down and soon their breathy gasps and moans were jumbled into garbled noises floating in the room.

"Dean..." Sam was begging now. He was so close it almost hurt, but Dean wasn't letting him finish the job.

"I want...I want you to come without touching yourself, Sammy." Dean answered roughly, lust deepening his voice even more than normal as his free hand gripped tight to Sam's waist and he pumped his hips up quickly.

Sam moaned as that spot in him was hit again and again, and that, combined with Dean's words, had him choking out a moan and coming, thick white strips landing on Dean's chest and neck.

Dean groaned low and primal in the back of his throat as Sam constricted around him, impossibly tight, milking him and making him come right after his brother. He came so hard the world blacked out around the edges of his eyesight and he had to blink a few times before the world snapped into place. The room was silent except for their labored breathing and Dean carefully pulled free, a hiss escaping from Sam's lips as he closed his eyes to try and catch his breath.

Sam all but collapsed on him, chest heaving and sweat clinging to every inch of him. Dean was about to push Sam off and call him a complete girl when Sam's hand trailed through the mess on Dean's chest and brought his now messy palm up to his mouth, his tongue darting out to lick it clean. Dean groaned and his dick gave a feeble twitch of interest as Sam continued to clean himself, tongue and lips wrapping around his nimble fingers obscenely before Dean pushed his hand away and grabbed the back of his neck to crash their lips together. It was sticky and dirty and Sam tasted like himself and Dean couldn't get enough of it.

Their frantic make out session slowed to languid sweeps of tongues and softly bitten lips, becoming something so sweet and pure Dean thought for a moment that it might all be in his mind because it was just too _good_.

Sam leaned his head back far enough to stare into Dean's eyes again, hope and contentment radiating from his stare. Dean leaned forward the few inches to capture Sam's lips in another soft kiss, wanting to groan and sigh at just how goddamned happy he felt.

"I'm sorry," Sam mumbled against his lips, one of his arms somehow managing to pillow itself under Dean's head, the other wrapped loosely around Dean's waist.

Dean knew what he meant, his mind right back where they were when this all began. But he didn't want to think about that. Not right now.

Sam was right. He _knew_ Sam was right.

He was a coward and crappy older brother for laying the blame on him. But Sam was still forgiving him.

Sam was forgiving him for the seals and the apocalypse, and Lucifer, and lying and Jo.

Sam was forgiving him for all the shit he's put his brother through in the past few weeks, months, _year_.

Sam was forgiving him for almost giving up on absolutely everything.

And he had already forgiven Sam for what he had done. There was no question about it.

"I love you," Sam said quietly, words muffled as he gently kissed the side of Dean's neck. But Dean heard the words clear as day and involuntarily shivered.

Expressing their feelings wasn't something they ever did unless one of them was bleeding out and semiconscious.

But here, sweaty and sticky, wrapped in his brother's arms in a crappy hotel room in the middle of nowhere with all of their crap scattered around the room, Dean felt the need to return the sentiment.

"I love you too, little brother." The _that's never going to change_ remained unsaid as Dean breathed out, feeling as if the weight that had been on his shoulders for months was finally being lifted.

He smiled as he felt Sam's grip on him tighten infinitesimally.

_they were going to be okay_.

* * *

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